


For More Information, Talk to Your Doctor

by adorable_eggplant



Series: Babaganoush [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Multi, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-24
Updated: 2011-08-24
Packaged: 2017-10-23 01:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/244508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adorable_eggplant/pseuds/adorable_eggplant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim Kirk is shocked by what he's just overheard and decides to do something about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For More Information, Talk to Your Doctor

**Author's Note:**

> This story assumes that the episodes of TOS took place chronologically by stardate rather than by original air date. Although the show’s writers and producers readily acknowledged that the stardates were chosen more or less at random, it makes sense from an in-universe perspective to use them as a basis for episode ordering. As luck would have it, viewing the early episodes in this order also provides a very natural-feeling progression to the budding friendship between Spock and McCoy. The story includes events from the episodes “Miri”, “Dagger of the Mind”, “The Conscience of the King”, (“The Galileo Seven” – not actually referenced here but assumed to have taken place at this point), “Court Martial”, and “The Menagerie”, in that order.

_Personal Log, stardate 3013.4.  I have just witnessed Fleet Captain Christopher Pike’s return to the planet of Talos Four.  It brings me great happiness to know that Chris will not be forced to spend the rest of his life trapped alone inside his own mind, even if he has only traded this prison for an illusion.  I can only hope that, as the Keeper said, my own reality might be as pleasant.  Perhaps a game of chess with Mister Spock would be a good way to begin – I am of course quite eager to hear his attempt to justify this entire affair as completely logical._

Jim switched off the computer, grabbed the dress uniform jacket from where it lay on the desk and tossed it in the recycler, and pulled on his standard command tunic.  _Much better._   He hadn’t heard anything from Spock, which probably meant he hadn’t beamed back aboard yet.  _Might as well go down to the Transporter Room and meet him.  And I should stop by Sickbay on the way to give Bones the good news.  He might not ever admit it to Spock, but I’m certain he’ll be rather relieved to learn that his favorite pointed-eared Vulcan hasn’t been sentenced to death quite yet._

As he neared Sickbay, he heard Spock’s voice from through the open doorway.  He grinned to himself.   _Well, well!  So either Bones came up with some excuse about needing to inquire after Spock’s mental health following what surely must have been a very stressful ordeal or else Spock decided to pretend that logic compelled him to inform the ship’s doctor of his continued need for his services.  Either way, this ought to be good._   He quietly pressed himself to the wall just outside the doorway and leaned his head in slightly.

“I swear, Spock, if you ever pull a stunt like that again…”

“Yes, I know, you’ll be forced to ‘wring my little Vulcan neck’.  Which I must point out would, logically, most likely be a rather pointless endeavor on your part owing to my superior Vulcan strength.”

Jim bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from laughing.  He was going to have to start eavesdropping on their conversations more often.  _Well, I suppose first I have to figure out how to get them to_ have _conversations together off-duty so that there’ll be something to eavesdrop on._

“I’m serious, Spock!  I know you had it all worked out that it wouldn’t be logical for them to follow through with the death sentence once they knew what you were doing, but they’re humans!  And you can’t guarantee that humans will always come to the same conclusions as you do just because it’s the only logical thing to do!”

“McCoy…”  Jim’s brow furrowed slightly; Spock’s tone of voice seemed oddly gentle, almost apologetic. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Spock, I didn’t mean to start giving you a lecture.  I’m just glad that no one’s throwing you out of an airlock right now.”

“Logical.”  The corner of Jim’s mouth twitched up in amusement – he could picture perfectly the little incline of the head and the raised eyebrows that accompanied Spock’s retort.

“I’m gonna let that one slide for now, but you’d better watch it, Mister.  And hey, how about at least giving me _some_ clue what you’re up to the next time you decide to break a dozen Starfleet regulations all at once, okay?” 

 _What the devil is going on around here?  Why would Spock tell Doctor McCoy of all people if he was up to something?  That’s a ridiculous question; even after the last week I hardly think Spock’s sitting around in his spare time devising ways to break the rules.  But what reason could he possibly have for telling_ Bones _if he was?_

“Shall I join you in your quarters after I have completed my evening meditation?” 

 _Wait, what?  All of this talk about illusions is obviously getting to me.  Why would…_ He inched his head forward to peek around the corner of the doorway and almost immediately yanked it back again in shock.  _Okay, that was only supposed a joke about illusions, but there’s no way in hell that I could have actually just seen the real Mister Spock’s hands on the real Doctor McCoy’s hips._ He hazarded another peek.  _Or the real McCoy and the real Spock kissing.  That definitely can’t actually be happening right now.  And were they touching fingertips?  Isn’t that some kind of Vulcan…_

“I’ll see you then.”

 _Ok, probably not a good idea to be standing here like this when Spock walks into the corridor.  Not enough time to make it back around the corner…_  Jim quickly took a few steps away from the door so that he could turn to walk back toward it as if only just arriving.  “Spock!  I was just on my way to the Transporter Room to find you,” he said upon seeing his First Officer.  “Giving Doctor McCoy the good news?”  He turned to walk alongside Spock.

Spock clasped his hands behind his back.  “I thought it logical to inform the doctor that he would do well to continue in his attempts to bring his knowledge of Vulcan physiology to at least the level of a grade school textbook as he will be retaining me as a patient.” 

“Ah.  I see.”  _So that’s how we’re going to play this, huh._   “And I trust that this information was not entirely displeasing to the doctor?”

“Displeasure is a purely human emotion, so my speculations on the subject would seem to be rather pointless.  However, the doctor does appear to be satisfied that my present condition does not require continued observation for symptoms of stress.”

Jim chuckled.  “Well, that’s good to hear, Mister Spock.  Would you care for a game of chess now that you’ve received a clean bill of health?”

“If it would please the captain, might I propose tomorrow evening as an alternative?  In my present state of ‘flagrant emotionalism’, as I believe you called it, I think winning the game might prove an unusually difficult task for you.  An evening of meditation on my part would most likely greatly improve your odds for the following day.”

“As you wish.”  Jim smiled returned Spock’s small respectful nod, and the Vulcan turned to enter his quarters.  _Yes, I suspect you would have found it surprisingly easy to outwit me at chess right at the moment, Mister Spock.  ‘Flagrant emotionalism’, my ass._  

*          *          *

Back in his own quarters, Jim reclined on the bed without bothering to remove his boots.  _How the hell did this happen?  Even ignoring for the moment the fact that they’re constantly at each other’s throats, how did I manage to get_ both _of their orientations wrong?  Well, alright, I did more or less just assume that Spock would be straight because he’s a Vulcan.  Surely heterosexuality must be only logical given the need to propagate the species.  And I suppose it would be rather foolish of me to have expected that Spock would show much reaction to my flirtation even if he was interested._

 _And Bones.  No, no, I thought Bones was gay right from the start.  I only snuck a look in his medical file after meeting Nancy Crater because I was curious if it said ‘bisexual’ rather than ‘gay’.  He certainly didn’t ever seem to have any problem with it when I flirted with him.  And that little smile of his?  When have I ever seen him look at anyone else like that?  I hardly had any reason to expect his file to tell me that he’s straight, divorced, and a father to boot._

 _And yet it would seem that I have some rather concrete evidence that neither man has any particular personal objection to the intimate company of another man.  If I’d known_ that _, I wouldn’t be the only person lying in this bed right now._  

He sat up suddenly, a brilliant idea quickly taking shape in his mind.  _Yes, I think that just might work._   He switched on the computer console and consulted the staff schedules for the next few days.  He needed to pay his doctor a visit.

*          *          *

Stopping just outside the door, he lifted his eyebrows as high as they would go, forcefully rolled his shoulders back and down, and exhaled deliberately through an open mouth.  Feeling a good bit more relaxed for having done so, he strode confidently through the doorway.

He was in luck:  sickbay appeared to be deserted.  He waited a moment to be sure the door had clicked shut behind him before proceeding to the CMO’s office in the back.  Somehow he didn’t think Bones would appreciate it if anyone walked in on this conversation without their notice. 

The doctor was at his desk, scribbling something on a PADD.  He punctuated a sentence with a flourish before stowing the device in a drawer and turning to the captain with a smile.  “Jim!  I was just going to call up and see if you wanted to join me in the mess for….”  The smile quickly faded as he met Jim’s eyes.  “What’s the matter, Jim?” he asked, standing and grabbing a hold of his friend’s arm.

 _Shit.  Stupid._   He should have known better than to think that he could keep up the Calm and Collected Captain facade for long with his closest friend.  “Spock.”

The doctor blanched slightly.  “What about him, Jim?”

“You’re sleeping with him.”

Bones blinked and then broke into a grin.  “Well, that’s hardly news,” he laughed, clapping Jim on the arm and then crossing his arms in front of his chest and rocking back on his heels.  The smile slowly slid back off his face as Jim’s expression darkened into a decided glare.  “Wait a minute.  Shit.  Jim, don’t tell me you didn’t know!”

“As I’m sure you’re well aware, Doctor, Mister Spock is the one with telepathic capabilities, not me,” he snapped.  “Not to pry into your personal affairs, but I would have thought that at least one of my two closest friends might have had the decency to tell me that they were seeing each other!”

“Jim, we didn’t think we needed to!” Bones said, throwing his hands up in exasperation.  “You had that mischievous little smirk of yours on practically the whole week after!  We couldn’t figure out how you knew, but we were both certain you did.  I figured you didn’t actually say anything because you didn’t really want to know all of the details, and, well, you know Spock – he thought it was ‘logical to defer to my judgment in matters so strongly steeped in highly illogical human emotions’ or something along those lines, so he didn’t say anything either.”

Jim had to chuckle in spite of himself.  “Bones,” he said, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest.  “And here I thought the two of you probably hadn’t spoken a single word to each other when you weren’t on duty.” 

Bones smirked.  “What do you say I pour you a drink and we order in?”

“All right, then.  I do have just a _couple_ of questions I wouldn’t mind getting answered.”  He pulled up a chair alongside the desk while the doctor produced two glasses and a bottle from a cabinet. 

“Chris is on call this shift and she usually spends some of her time down here in the lab even when we don’t have any patients.  I’d better do something about that, too.”  He pressed the intercom button on the computer.  “Sickbay to Nurse Chapel.” 

“Nurse Chapel, Doctor.  I’m just leaving the mess hall.  I’ll be right there.”

“Actually, Nurse, I just wanted to see if you wouldn’t mind picking up some food for me and the Captain and bringing it by my office.  We have some confidential matters to discuss and decided we might as well go ahead and get started right away.  McCoy out.”

Chapel appeared with two trays just as the doctor put the stopper back in the bottle of brandy.  He rose to take the trays from her.  “Thanks, Chris.  You can take the evening off.  If anything comes up I’ll handle it.”

“Thanks, Doctor.  Captain,” she said with a nod before leaving.

Jim heard the door click shut again.  Bones set the trays on the desk and sat down again.  He picked up a glass.  “To clearing up little misunderstandings?” he suggested with a smile.

“We’ll see how ‘little’ once you start talking,” Jim returned, raising his own glass and smiling back at Bones before taking a sip.  “So when exactly was this week that I spent grinning like a maniac?  Evidently I don’t check my face in the mirror quite often enough.”

“Oh, it was back when we had those players on board and you were busy chasing after Kodos’ daughter.  Spock came to get my medical opinion on whether or not you’d lost your marbles and after he had a couple of drinks in him one thing sort of led to another.”

 _Well, that explains why I didn’t notice, at least._ Lenore’s breakdown alone would have been painful but manageable, but the awful childhood memories of Tarsus Four had proved remarkably vivid even after so many years.  Knowing that the ship would be traveling quietly through safe, well-charted space for a full ten days, he’d given into his occasional temptation this time and had spent a few days under the influence of an Andorian herbal stimulant he’d charmed out of a star-struck young nurse on the gamma shift.  _Hell, I probably wouldn’t have noticed if Spock had started tap-dancing on the bridge.  Apparently there’s still plenty going on around here even when we’re just flying in a straight line for a solid week._ “You say Spock came to ask _your_ opinion on something and then from there you somehow managed to get him _drinking_?  I think you’re going to have to back up a bit further than that, Bones.” 

“Funny, I wouldn’t think _you_ ’d have any difficulty picturing me successfully offering someone a drink.  More?”  He refilled Jim’s proffered glass.  “Well, I guess it probably kind of started back on that duplicate planet Earth a little while back, when Spock and I were trying to come up with a vaccine for that anti-aging virus.  After a whole week of working together so closely, I think we were getting to be friends after a fashion.  For all our bickering, Jim, Spock and I actually agree about quite a lot of things, and we genuinely respect each other’s work.  Anyway, when I came to after that vaccine knocked me out…. Well, I’d never seen a look quite like that on Spock’s face before.  I think we both know he keeps his human half pretty tightly under wraps most of the time, but there wasn’t a trace of our stoic Vulcan for a moment there.  All this time I’d been needling him trying to get just a little of that side of him to peek through, and then suddenly, there it was.  He closed back up again pretty quickly once it was obvious that I was going to be all right, but there had definitely been something there.  After that he sort of eased up a bit when the two of us were working together.  And of course we ran into Simon Van Gelder almost right after that.  When Spock had to do a mind-meld on him… well, I could see why it’s not exactly something Vulcans run around doing in public, and I guess I realized that I felt a bit more than just a medical curiosity about it.  So, being the thoroughly ethical physician that I am, I cheated and looked in Spock’s file to see if there might possibly be any logic to pursuing that line of thinking, if you know what I mean.”  He took a sip of brandy with a self-satisfied smile.

“Why, Doctor McCoy!  I’m shocked that you would do such a thing!” Jim teased.

“Now, Jim, it’s vital to my sworn duty to care for the health of this crew that I be familiar with the contents of those medical files.”

“Aha.  Well, I can hardly fault you for just doing your job, I suppose,” he said with a grin.  “Although I guess I’m a bit surprised.  I’d just assumed that Vulcans were exclusively heterosexual since logically the purpose of mating would be to produce offspring.”

“Well, culturally they are, in a matter of speaking.  All Vulcan marriages are arranged by the parents, and that’s done largely based on the logic of politics and strategic unions between families.  Biologically, though, homosexuality still occurs just as has throughout Earth history, even in times when it was strictly taboo.  It’s highly unusual for a Vulcan to publicly act on that since it requires admitting to having some sort of emotions, but again we have to remember that our Mister Spock _is_ half human.”

“I suppose that all makes sense.”  _Damnit, why didn’t_ I _think of that before?  It seems pretty obvious now._   “So now I guess maybe I’m just a bit surprised that you’d go after Spock.  I wouldn’t have pegged him for your type.”

Bones snorted.  “That’s rich, considering how much time you spend staring at his little Vulcan ass on the bridge.”

Jim’s cheeks colored slightly.  “Oh.  I, uh.  That obvious?”  Bones raised an eyebrow.  “No, that’s not what I…  Your file says you’re straight!”

Bones narrowed his eyes and set his glass down pointedly.  “And what reason might you have had for looking through my confidential medical record, _Captain_?”

“I believe my motives may have been similar to your own.   _Doctor_.”

Bones eyed him for a moment longer and then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.  “I suppose you’ve got me there, Jim.”

“Well?”

“Outdated Starfleet bureaucratic procedure.”

“Come again?”

“If you’re married or divorced when you enlist, Starfleet automatically fills in the ‘orientation’ field for you – and as I’m sure you know from nosing around in my private file, I have an ex-wife.  There’s a Data Correction form that you can submit to have things like that changed in your official record, but I have enough paperwork as it is, and I didn’t really see the point.  I didn’t exactly decide to venture into outer space so I could get laid.”

“No, I suppose not.”  Jim suppressed a grin.  “So, a fellow switch-hitter, then?”

“You know, if someone had told me when I woke up this morning that I’d be having this conversation later on…”

“No, sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you that.  Forget it.”

“Jim, I hardly think _that’s_ too personal a question after everything else that’s been said this evening.  And I suppose you could say that.  It’s ended up that I only dated women when I was younger and only men in the last ten years or so, but I can’t remember ever particularly caring one way or the other.  That’s just the way things worked out.”  He pointed at Jim’s again-empty glass.  “Care for another round?”

Jim held it out for Bones to refill.  “I think maybe you missed your true calling in life, Doctor.  Which brings me back to my original question of how even a man of your practiced hand—” he gestured with the glass “—came to be pouring my first officer a drink.”

“I was getting there.  Well, like I said, Spock came to ask my opinion about your behavior after we’d taken our little miss Ophelia aboard.  It was the end of a shift and the first time in a week that I hadn’t pulled a double, so I had just poured myself a bit of brandy to celebrate the occasion.  I’d been trying to think up some excuse to strike up a bit of a casual conversation with Spock when we were off-duty, and here he just showed right up at my door, so to speak.  Now, I had been too busy to come up to the bridge and see any of your alleged antics for myself, and nothing Spock had to say then seemed like a particular cause for concern.  I could see Jim Kirk making a harmless little detour and doing just a bit of rule-bending on account of a pretty girl, even if Spock couldn’t find a lick of logic in it.  Anyway, I figured you knew what you were doing and that if I understood your plan correctly, you’d appreciate it if Spock and I weren’t following you around too closely on your evening off.  So I offered him a drink.  He said his ‘father’s race was spared the dubious benefits of alcohol’ or something along those lines.  Now, our Mister Spock is nothing if not an efficient man, and when he comes out with some roundabout answer like that instead of just a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’, he’s got his reasons.  Baiting, in this case.  ” 

“Of course.”

“Well now, I told Spock you had everything under control and that he ought to let you and the little lady be, making sure to do a little baiting of my own with a remark about his ‘personal chemistry’.  Well, that got his attention, I think.  It took a couple more attempts on my part, but finally he heaved a big dramatic sigh and plopped down in a chair in a very thoroughly non-Vulcan fashion and asked for a glass.  Anyway, I got around to asking how he’d feel about showing me a bit more about mind-melds sometime and we got into a big long discussion about that and Vulcan touch telepathy.  The actual mind-melding got put off until sometime when we weren’t drinking, of course, but, well, I’m sure you’ve shared enough bottles of wine in your day to fill in the rest of the blanks for yourself,” he finished with a sly smile.

Jim returned the smile.  Bones took another sip from his glass.  He turned it around in his fingers and eyed it contemplatively for a few moments before turning to consider Jim carefully.  “Now, wait a minute, Jim.  You said _you_ were nosing around in _my_ file looking for…”  Clearly putting two and two together, he grinned.  “Why, Captain!  I had no idea.”

“Bones, I’ve been accused of quite a lot of things over the years, but subtlety isn’t one of them.  You can’t possibly tell me that you’ve never noticed my interest in you.”

“Jim, the only time you talk to another person _without_ pouring on the charm is if they’re actively in the process of shooting at you.  And I doubt you’ve been accused very often of playing hard to get, either.  I assumed that if you were actually interested you would’ve just gone for it.  Let’s face it:  Captain Kirk could easily do a bit better than an ornery middle-aged doctor.” 

“Now Bones, I don’t believe you’re being entirely fair to our dear friend Doctor McCoy.  Personally, I’ve always found his youthful presence rather… enjoyable,” he said, meeting the doctor’s eyes with his best seductive gaze.

Bones appeared transfixed for a moment.  Blinking, he lowered his eyes and licked his lips.  “Jim, I, ah.  Look, I’m flattered and all that, and I admit the idea isn’t without its appeal.  But, well, ah.”

“Spock.”

“I like to think I’m generally an honest man.”  He looked up again, blue eyes searching Jim’s face.  “You too, Jim.” 

“Of course, Bones.  I didn’t intend to suggest anything that wouldn’t meet with Mister Spock’s approval.”

Bones frowned.  “In that case I think you’d better explain just what exactly you _were_ intending to suggest.  And don’t try telling me you were just clowning around.  I saw that look in your eyes.”

“Well, Bones, I was thinking of something a bit more… mutually beneficial to ourselves and to Mister Spock.”

The doctor’s forehead creased slightly.  “I don’t think I follow.”  Jim waited for the appropriate gears to turn in his friend’s head.  After a moment, Bones’ eyebrows popped back up.  “Oh.”  He absentmindedly reached a hand up to scratch the back of his head.  “I ah, see what you mean.”

“And?”

“Well, obviously I can’t really speak for Spock on the matter,” he said evasively.  Jim smiled.  _On to Phase Two._

Hearing the door to Sickbay open, Jim leaned back in his chair to see who had come in.  “Well, speak of the devil.”

“Captain.”  Spock had entered the office and now stood just inside the doorway, hands clasped behind his back.  “I had not expected to find you here.”

“Good to see you too, Mister Spock.  And please, we’re not on duty.  ‘Jim’ will do just fine.”

“The human tendency to ascribe different labels to oneself based on such arbitrary circumstances as time of day continues to elude me, but as you wish.”

Jim chuckled.  “You came to see Bones about something, Spock?”

“That is correct.”  He raised his eyebrows pointedly.  “Jim.” 

“I see.  I don’t often see the two of you spending your spare time together.  What’s the occasion?”

Spock’s brow furrowed slightly as he tried to come up with an answer.  “Although I frequently find Doctor McCoy’s colorful metaphors rather tiring, I believe that under the present circumstances one of them might enable him to provide a more suitable answer than my doubtlessly more efficient theoretical response.  Perhaps you would care to direct your question to him instead.”

Jim could barely keep himself from laughing.  “Bones?” 

“Well, Jim, I think what Spock is trying to say… that is…  Oh, the hell with it.  He came for a roll in the hay.  Why do you _think_ he’s here?”

One of Spock’s eyebrows jerked skyward.  “Fascinating.”

“Come on, pull up a chair, Spock,” Jim said.  “Bones’ll pour you a drink.”

“He’s gonna need it, the way _you’ve_ been carrying on,” Bones muttered, getting up to retrieve another glass from the cabinet.

“I fail to see how the Captain’s speech patterns could possibly induce a requirement for alcohol on my part.”

“I don’t think I even wanna try to explain that one.  Jim, would you care to field the question?”  He handed a rather full glass of brandy to Spock, who took it but continued to look perplexed.  “Trust me, you’re gonna want this.”

“Spock, you’ve studied the history and literature of Earth rather extensively, haven’t you?”

“I believe my knowledge on those subjects is sufficient for conversational purposes.”

“Good, good.  So you’re familiar with the phrase ‘ménage à trois,’ then.”  At this Bones looked as though his eyes might be permanently stuck wide open, but Spock appeared unfazed.

“I understand its meaning.  May I ask to what end you wish to ascertain my familiarity with this particular term?”

“Well, Spock, I’m confident that if you give the matter a bit more thought you can reach some sort of logical answer to that question,” Jim said, gently resting a hand on the doctor’s thigh.  “Although I’m sure Bones and I could provide some additional insight if needed.” 

Spock looked down at the hand on his partner’s leg.  “I have formed a hypothesis.  I believe I would find it interesting to see if this ‘additional insight’ you have offered would confirm this hypothesis.  I also believe I am beginning to better understand the doctor’s somewhat unusual prescription.”  He held up his glass with a smirk before taking a drink.

“Now, that’s not fair, Jim,” Bones said, placing his empty glass on the desk.  “How come Spock here didn’t have to play Twenty Questions before you got around to making your point?”

“Funny, I assumed that after spending so much time around Mister Spock you’d appreciate such an efficient approach.”  Sliding the one hand from Bones’ thigh to the small of his back and reaching the other hand around to cradle the back of his head, Jim pulled them both up to standing and kissed the doctor.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I assume that by the 23rd century humanity has accepted that one’s sexual orientation is just as much an inborn characteristic as one’s biological gender, eye color, or adult height, so it seems entirely plausible to me that it would by then be included in a person’s medical file along with all of the other basic background information.
> 
> 2\. Thanks, S.!


End file.
